Formal Engagements
by QueenStrata
Summary: On the eve of his graduation from Hogwarts, Harry gets a visit from someone he had never expected.


A/N: This is a graduation present for my friend Nell…don't ask me why I wrote it. I just need to write something every day and figured, hell, she got/wrote me one…why not return the favor? I feel oddly defiled, though, writing this pairing. Sigh.

Warnings: Slightly OOC Harry, but this is a post-war fic and wars…change people.

Disclaimer: I don't own 'em.

_Formal Engagements_

There was no ceremony for graduating from Hogwarts. You didn't get a special party, you didn't get a day taken from your life so people you'd never otherwise know existed could shake your hand and wish you luck with your future, and you certainly didn't get a final spectacular meal beyond the annual Leaving Feast. You just left on the train like everyone else and cried with your friends on the way home about how you would miss the school and how surreal it was to finally be leaving your home away from home.

Harry Potter was therefore surprised when, the night before the end, Professor McGonagall told him that someone had come to congratulation him on his graduation and that there would be a _formal_ dinner with _formal_ robes and _polite_ behavior. He should have known, though—exceptions were the rule for him and who wouldn't want to be known as the one person who had dined with the Boy-Who-Lived-and-Defeated-Voldemort the night before society would truly accept him as an adult.

And so it was with some trepidation that he made his way to the empty classroom he would surely be tortured in for a few hours. He was greeted at the door by McGonagall, who once again reminded him to be polite and asked him to please at least pretend he knew how to converse, to which he gave the woman his best smile and a softly murmured agreement.

When he finally did get into the room, he was absolutely shocked to find Oliver Wood lounging casually in a chair as he stared intently at the door, much like a dog waiting for its owner to come home.

"Good to see you again, Harry," Oliver said with a grin and waved his hand at the chair across the candlelit table from him. "Have a seat, won't you? I know this is a surprise for you,—trust me, I was shocked myself when McGonagall suggested it—so I hoped we could at least have some food to help us relax before I get to the reason for my being here."

Harry nodded bemusedly as he sat down, already more relaxed than he had been before the man's voice had washed over him. He barely said a word over the course of the long meal, preferring instead to listen. Oliver didn't seem to mind the near-silence, had even seemed to expect it after the few times the two of them had worked together during the war.

"Right then," Oliver said as the desserts disappeared, and Harry could hear a faint tone of nervousness in his voice. "Moving on to why I'm here. Putting it bluntly, Harry—because I know how much you value honesty—I like you. A lot. I know we haven't really talked to each other much outside of our collaborations during the war—and even those times were short and tense—but you've…grown, and I don't just mean physically, and, well, I was hoping for a chance to possibly get to know you better…if you don't mind. I have a flat in London, you can stay with me while you do your Auror training—you _are_ still planning that, right?—and I would really like it if you would possibly move in there and give…it…a chance?"

Harry mulled over Oliver's words for a few moments, trying to decide just how he felt about this offer. It was convenient for his future, certainly—he was not at all looking forward to searching for a place to live—and Oliver was…well, he was Oliver. Handsome and charming and absolutely uninterested in the celebrity status of Harry Potter because there were more important things about him, like his wicked Quidditch skills. And anyway, wouldn't it be nice, just this once, to have a way to pretend he was a normal boy with a normal life, even if it did include a perfectly abnormal person (who was, in truth, one of the most promising aspects of his life)?

"Alright," Harry said. "But I'm helping you pay your bills, and I refuse to clean anything."

Oliver grinned widely and chuckled a little, sounding relieved. Then he hopped out of his seat and walked around to Harry's chair, where he offered a hand to help him up. He kissed the back of Harry's hand, and when the other boy smiled happily (if a bit shyly), he leaned over to take Harry's lips in a short, chaste kiss.

"I'll…take you back to Gryffindor tower," Oliver said softly once he moved away.

"I think I'd better invite you to stay for an hour or two," Harry returned just as softly, and the two of them left the room arm in arm.


End file.
